


Miya Atsumu's Definitive Guide to Being a Good Person

by hamwriting



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff and Humor, M/M, Miya Atsumu-centric, POV Outsider, Post-Time Skip, rated T for Atsumu's potty mouth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:33:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29092089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamwriting/pseuds/hamwriting
Summary: For such a healthy and athletic guy, Bokuto sure spends a long time in the bathroom these days.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Bokuto Koutarou & Miya Atsumu, Miya Atsumu & Miya Osamu
Comments: 25
Kudos: 209





	Miya Atsumu's Definitive Guide to Being a Good Person

**Author's Note:**

> I love outside pov fics. Very excited to finally try my hand at it (and complete something xD) A fluffy snippet of bkak somehow turned into 3.5k words of Atsumu, but I won't complain :p Please enjoy!

Five years into his professional career with the MSBY Black Jackals, Atsumu takes a good look at his interpersonal relationships—or rather, lack thereof. If he has to map out his social life, nothing has changed too much from childhood days: there’s his dot, ATSUMU, a line, and then a big fat dot, OSAMU. He briefly reconnected with Aran and Suna when the lot of them were all on the national team, but Aran doesn’t use his phone much otherwise and Suna uses his phone _way_ too much for Atsumu to properly communicate with him. Kita would occasionally appear, but it’s mostly to hand-deliver rice to Osamu’s shops and to ask whether Atsumu is taking proper care of himself (he is).

As for his MSBY teammates, he’s not sure how many of them he can really call friends. Hinata is the closest, for sure—but that’s also because Hinata is friends with literally _everyone_. Adriah is very nice too, but the poor man’s Japanese vocabulary consists 80% of _sumimasen!_ , and Atsumu is too much of a dumbass to carry out any semblance of conversation in English. Omi has just been a really tough nut to crack even after all these years. And the rest of them are all just plain _weird_.

But you know what? It’s fine. Because Atsumu doesn’t feel lonely.

No, scratch that.

It’s not fine. And Atsumu definitely feels lonely.

When Atsumu finally reluctantly admits this to Osamu, Osamu laughs, and Atsumu punches him. Turns out, even Osamu has made friends with some of his regulars, and Atsumu cannot fathom how in the world someone is just able to do that.

“Ya could start with just bein’ a good person,” Osamu says.

“Are ya implying that I’m not?!”

“I’m very directly sayin’ that yer not.”

Atsumu smashes his head onto the counter. “God! I hate it when yer right.” He rolls his face around some more, just to feel the harsh coldness of the marble all over his face, before resting on one cheek. “...Got any tips fer me?”

Osamu hums as he wraps a rice ball in nori. “Ya gotta learn to care about other people,” he says. “Notice ‘em. Pay attention to ‘em. And then—be kind.” 

“Sounds like a load o’ lofty bullcrap to me,” Atsumu mumbles under his breath. Just then, the door jingles open, letting in a gust of cold wind and two cheery customers.

“Oi, Satoru, Sakura-chan!” Osamu greets. “Ya both still down for drinks this friday? Oh, and how was the recipe I gave ya? Did yer kids enjoy it?”

“Osamu-kun! Yes, and yes!” The customers approach Osamu with elbow bumps and laughter, and the three of them exchange some more chatter before the pair sits down at a booth in the corner.

Atsumu scrunches his face in not-jealousy. Osamu lifts a smug eyebrow. 

Atsumu groans.

“Fine! Fine ya bastard. I’ll do it. I’ll give it a try.”

“Good boy.” Osamu winks and blows a kiss, and Atsumu flips him off.

— 

Atsumu gets right down to work, because he’s an impatient fucker, even when it comes to something as un-Atsumu as this. With a calculated session of eni-meni-mini-mo, Atsumu chooses his wing spiker and walking human disaster Bokuto as his first test subject.

Luckily, Bokuto isn’t very hard to observe. It’s probably harder _not_ to observe him. The man is literally a gigantic attention magnet, even if Atsumu is reluctant to admit it. And so Atsumu allows himself to pay attention. He notices many things over the next weeks; some normal, some strange, and some that make Atsumu feel a non-negligible amount of second-hand embarrassment. For example: Bokuto listens to children’s lullabies on their bus rides to away matches. For example: Bokuto owns at least 10 pairs of owl boxers. For example: Bokuto won’t eat power bars with raisins in them. For example: Bokuto frequently comes to practice in jackets that are 2 sizes too small for him, and not in a good way.

Lately though, Atsumu starts noticing something new about his target. During their water breaks, Bokuto would often excuse himself to use the restroom while the rest of the team sat around and chatted. It’s not that strange—a man’s gotta piss, after all—but it starts to pique his curiosity when Bokuto would leave immediately _every single time._

“Hey Bokkun, ‘bout that new serve—”

“Sorry!” Bokuto cuts him off loudly, “I gotta um. You know. BRB!” Taking his phone and water bottle, Bokuto hustles off in the direction of the men's room.

“Huhn,” Atsumu says, slinking down to the floor between Hinata and Sakusa (and pointedly ignoring the fact that Sakusa slides an inch away as he does so.) “He never sticks around durin’ the water breaks anymore, does he?”

“Maybe he doesn’t like you,” Sakusa offers unhelpfully.

“Maybe he’s gotta poo! And he can’t,” Hinata offers more helpfully.

Atsumu clutches his heart at Sakusa’s statement but then turns to Hinata. “Ya may be onto something, Shouyou-kun.” He recalls Osamu’s lectures about the importance of a balanced meal. “What’s Bokkun usually eating these days?”

“Mmm,” Hinata thinks, “Last time I saw his lunch, and it was beef, a ton of rice, and more beef! Oh, and a candy bar.”

“That’s it. That’s it!” Atsumu may have tuned out most of Osamu’s ramblings, but he did catch the part about fiber being a necessary part of the human diet. He puffed his chest with something akin to pride, thinking that the Black Jackals, sorely lacking in brain power as their current team is, is really quite lucky to have a knowledgeable man on the team such as himself. 

“Bokkun!” He points, when Bokuto re-enters the gymnasium, “Don’t bother bringin’ lunch tomorrow. This Miya’s gonna treat ya to somethin’ good.”

Bokuto’s eyebrows shoot up once he pieces together the words. “Oh! Tsum-tsum, you’re gonna make me lunch?” Then he blinks and cocks his head. “Do I uh, owe, you anything?”

“It’s on the house, because I’m generous.”

Bokuto peers closer. “Do _you_ owe _me_ anything..?”

Atsumu raises a hand to smack at his head, but (un)fortunately, Meian beats him to it. “Back to practice, you brats! Hup, hup!”

Bokuto runs off to where the team’s gathered, still with a confused look on his face, and Atsumu follows suit. _I’m doing good_ , Atsumu thinks, patting himself on the back for taking a step in the right direction along this becoming-a-better-person journey.

—

As promised, Atsumu shows up the next day with 2 servings of lunch. Well, more like 2.5, because Bokuto’s appetite is a force to be reckoned with. Well, more like 3 because he knows their other teammates will get jealous if he doesn’t bring extra.

“Oh, onigiri!” Bokuto exclaims happily. “I knew it! But even so, I can’t wait. Wow!”

Atsumu smirks proudly at his handiwork. If the team didn’t know yet, they definitely would know now—that Atsumu isn’t Osamu’s twin for nothing. Good food ran in their _genes_. 

Bokuto eagerly picks one up, ready to bite it, but then pauses. “Wait, why’s the rice brown?” He sniffs it, and then licks it. “It’s not soy sauce, is it?”

Atsumu rolls his eyes. “It’s brown ‘cause it’s _brown rice_ , ya idiot,” he explains. “Texture’s a bit different than the normal white rice, but it’s great fer athletes like us who’re eatin’ so much meat all the time ‘cause it helps move things along a lil’ faster, if ya catch my drift.”

“I see!” Bokuto says, clearly not seeing. He munches down on the rice ball. “Tsumu, this is great!!”

Atsumu lets the inattentiveness slide and allows himself to revel in the compliment. Sure enough, they’ve started to draw the attention of the other teammates, but Atsumu’s come prepared. Each teammate receives one Special Edition Minigiri™, with the exception of Hinata who gets two because he’s cute, and Adriah who gets three because he’s required to eat more Japanese food to make up for lost time (also because Sakusa refused his.)

As lunch wraps up, Atsumu has one more surprise for Bokuto. “Take this,” he says, hauling out a bag of Proper Hyogo brown rice. “It’s from ‘Samu. Somethin’ or other about bringing in his most dedicated customer.” Osamu hasn’t actually told him that, but Atsumu suspects that’s why his twin donated a bag of the beloved rice with no hesitation. “Eat this instead of yer normal rice. And also this.” He brings out another bag, filled with veggies he picked up at the market— celery, carrots, cabbages, even a head of cauliflower.

Bokuto accepts the foods. “Wow!” He shakes the rice, which sounds like rice, and then peers at the vegetables, which look like vegetables. He picks up a cauliflower tenderly. “Ghost broccoli…”

“What in the—? No, you know what, nevermind.”

Bokuto packs away the gifts and thanks Atsumu heartily, promising he’ll cook and eat the foods “ASAP as soon as possible!!” After practice, Bokuto catches up with him again. “Tsumu, you sure you don’t, um, owe me something or something?”

“No,” Atsumu replies and hopes that he sounds convincing. Being a good person is hard work, he thinks, but Miya Atsumu has never backed down from a challenge before. He can do this.

—

For the next week, Atsumu eagerly awaits results. Though he hasn’t gone through the trouble of packing extra lunches, he does occasionally bring some high fiber bars that he’ll offhandedly offer to Bokuto, which are accepted eagerly and without a second thought. Bokuto’s started texting him too now, with updates of food he’s making. No, it doesn’t make Atsumu smile. Okay, maybe it does, a little bit.

> **[19:08:11] Bokkun:** [image attachment, 457kb]
> 
> **[19:10:09]** nice
> 
> **[19:10:16]** never knew u could cook :P
> 
> **[19:10:41] Bokkun:** thanks!! 
> 
> **[19:10:59] Bokkun:** and also, ya i can!! im good at a lotta things u know
> 
> **[19:11:20]** i didnt
> 
> **[19:12:15] Bokkun:** one day when i retire from volleyball im gonna b a house husband
> 
> **[19:12:52]** very cool

A buzz from his phone notifies him that there’s another message thread waiting to be read. Of course, it’s Osamu. He opens the chat head to find a whole string of missed texts. Oops.

> **[18:09:43] Samu:** remind me again why opening a tokyo branch was a good idea
> 
> **[18:10:12] Samu:** oh yeah, its cuz business is booming
> 
> **[18:10:53] Samu:** hah im gonna be richer than u soon
> 
> **[18:11:07] Samu:** suck it 🖕🖕
> 
> **[18:14:32] Samu:** still, commuting btwn the branches sucks
> 
> **[18:17:44] Samu:** anyway howd the secret fiber mission go
> 
> **[18:25:01] Samu:** better not’ve let kita’s rice go to waste ya hear
> 
> **[18:46:21] Samu:** wow this might be the longest uve ignored my texts unless ur still at practice
> 
> **[19:13:16] Samu:** what, u finally getting laid or smth?

Atsumu rolls his eyes. And people call _him_ the dramatic twin.

> **[19:15:17]** yeah we’re making out rn so shut up
> 
> **[19:16:51]** the missions going ig. hes eatin the stuff i gave
> 
> **[19:17:58]** but hes still disappearing all the time
> 
> **[19:20:10] Samu:** huhn.
> 
> **[19:21:38]** u think maybe the rice isnt enough fiber
> 
> **[19:22:51]** any other ideas?
> 
> **[19:29:32] Samu:** nope. & i just got to the tokyo store
> 
> **[19:30:47] Samu:** looks like my fav customer is here
> 
> **[19:31:25] Samu:** nyways how nice to see u finally caring abt someone other than urself <3 baby brother is growing up
> 
> **[19:31:59] Samu:** bye now hun 💋
> 
> **[19:32:12]** im older than u shithead
> 
> **[19:32:40] Samu:** & if ur rly getting laid then use a rubber!
> 
> **[19:33:18]** die 🖕

Atsumu lets his phone fall to the floor and sighs, sinking into his couch. It was true what he said to Osamu, that Bokuto’s disappearances weren’t getting shorter or more sparse. If anything, they’re getting longer and more frequent. Atsumu rattled his brain. It’s really out of his comfort zone to caught up in someone else’s business like to this extent, but now that he’s already put in so much effort, he feels _invested_. 

Still, he knows that there’s only so far he could go before he’s overstepping. It’s not like they are real friends yet. Or going to be. Ever. This is just an experiment, for his own sake.

Atsumu sighs again, and the sound echoes off the walls of his apartment.

— 

Atsumu decides he can be patient. Dietary changes can take a while to kick in, after all. In the meantime, he busies himself with his other side project he likes to call Operation Omi™.

“Omi!” He calls in the locker room after their next practice, with the best _I definitely washed my hands!_ smile he has. He raises a hand for a high five.

Sakusa sidesteps him. “Miya.”

Atsumu lets his hand drop into his other, as if a exaggerated clap was what he had in mind the whole time. “Yer gonna shower now?” Sakusa reluctantly nods. “Great! Me too.”

“Nevermind then,” Sakusa says.

“Wait no! I’ll use the one furthest from ya, and I won’t throw water! Promise!”

Sakusa glares at him, but sighs in defeat and walks off towards the showers. Atsumu quietly pumps a fist in victory. +1 OmiPoints™— that makes a total of -8, now. 

“Omi,” he says once they’re in the showers. It’s surprisingly hard to talk over the sound of water. “Heard any good gossip recently? Let’s gossip.”

Sakusa’s face is hidden by the suds of his shampoo. “No.”

“No? Well then I’ll go. Bokkun’s still fleein’ for the bathrooms every time we get a break. I can’t figure it out.” So much for taking his mind off of that mystery. Oh well. “Ya think I should just corner him and ask what’s up?”

Sakusa rinses off impressively fast, and walks by Atsumu as he towels off. “If you get too mean with him, he ends up looking like a hurt puppy.” Their eyes meet (+0.5 OmiPoints™, -7.5 total) and Sakusa says lowly, “Trust me. I’ve tried.”

“What, when—” Atsumu starts, but Sakusa’s already gone. The shower doors open again just a moment later though, and speak of the devil, it’s Bokuto who’s poking his head in.

“Tsum-tsum, there you are! I wanted to ask! I want to practice more. Toss for me!”

“Yer not exactly asking, are ya,” Atsumu says. “Can’t you see I’m already showering?”

Bokuto purses his lips in thought. “Oh, I guess but… still, won’t you?”

 _Just how spoiled were you by your high school setter?_ Atsumu thinks exasperatedly, but nevertheless turns off the water. It’s not like he really has anything else planned for tonight. “Fine,” he grumbles. “Fine.”

—

Shirtless but back in his sweaty stinky practice shorts, Atsumu sets for Bokuto time after time in the otherwise empty gymnasium. They must have done over fifty spikes at this point, having emptied out two carts of balls, and Atsumu is prepared to do another fifty until Bokuto unexpectedly calls for a break.

“Let’s take a breather, Tsumu! I’ll be right back!”

Atsumu shrugs, wiping the sweat off his brow. At this point, he isn’t even surprised to see Bokuto making a beeline for the restroom. But isn’t it a bit too soon? They’d been doing these extra drills for less than half an hour, and he was _sure_ that he’d seen Bokuto at a urinal when they’d been in the locker rooms just before.

 _Whatever_ , Atsumu concedes, taking a seat by the bleachers and chugging some water. He pulls out his phone, mindlessly scrolling through Twitter and Instagram. He snaps a selfie but doesn’t post it, because management has reprimanded him once for being “not mindful enough of his image.” Whatever.

Five minutes pass, and Atsumu gets the impression that Bokuto won’t be back anytime soon. He looks for something to do that will keep his attention for more than a couple moments, and ends up texting Osamu.

> **[20:48:00]** boreddddd
> 
> **[20:48:28]** bokkun asked me for extra practice then ditched me
> 
> **[20:48:50]** like. what the hell

Reliably, Osamu’s reply came quickly.

> **[20:49:34] Samu:** sucks to suck
> 
> **[20:50:12] Samu:** store’s bout to close but still got my one favorite customer here
> 
> **[20:50:59] Samu:** usually he at least chats w me but rn he’s just looking at his phone and smiling stupidly
> 
> **[20:51:22] Samu:** what a lovebird. yick

_It’s cuz ur a boring ass,_ Atsumu begins to type, but is suddenly hit by an epiphany.

Bokuto’s high school setter.

Osamu’s favorite customer. 

_Lovebird_.

He gasps.

> **[20:52:02]** samu i’ve connected the dots
> 
> **[20:52:21] Samu:** lol wtf r u talking abt, i bet u didn’t connect shit
> 
> **[20:52:40]** no no ive definitely
> 
> **[20:52:58] Samu:**???

Leaving Osamu on read, Atsumu nearly sprints to the mens bathroom. “BOKUTO,” he yells and, spotting the stall with the closed door, delivers a swift kick to it. “Open up buddy, I know yer not actually takin’ a crap in there!”

Bokuto squeaks, and, as Atsumu suspected, does not flush before he shuffles to the stall door and opens it. Bokuto’s never been good at hiding his emotions, and guilt is written all over his stupid face as he meets Atsumu’s eyes. “Tsum-tsum!! I um, I was just—”

Atsumu doesn’t care for excuses. Bokuto’s a horrible liar too, and honestly it would just be painful to watch. He sees the phone cradled in Bokuto’s hand, screen still on, and swipes it in one forceful move. Bokuto whimpers. For a second, Atsumu worries, _oh god, what if he’s walking in on something inappropriate? ….What if he’s gonna see nudes?!_ But he realizes that those aren’t the worries he should be having.

What he sees is much, _much_ worse.

> **[20:45:11]** akaashiiiiiii i love you :)))))))
> 
> **[20:45:47] ❤️** **AKAASHI❤️** **:** Thank you.
> 
> **[20:46:21]** akaashi ily i miss youuuu!!!
> 
> **[20:46:59] ❤️** **AKAASHI❤️** **:** I know. I miss you too.
> 
> **[20:47:14]** akaashi how is the onigiri???? 
> 
> **[20:47:36]** ugh i’m hungry thinking abt it now!! 
> 
> **[20:48:40]** i wish i could b there with u then id probably steal some from you except u’d yell at me
> 
> **[20:49:00]** but you’d still let me right???
> 
> **[20:50:25]** ❤️ **AKAASHI❤️** **:** It’s good. And yes. Let’s come here together next time.
> 
> **[20:51:31]** i love u sm T————T!!!!
> 
> **[20:51:47] ❤️** **AKAASHI❤️** **:** Thank you.
> 
> **[20:52:29] ❤️** **AKAASHI❤️** **:** Did you know that owls’ ears are asymmetric?
> 
> **[20:52:53]** nope! did you know that i love you?
> 
> **[20:53:18] ❤️** **AKAASHI❤️** **:** Yes, you told me. I love you too.

It’s _sap_.

“Bokkun, ew man, what the fuck!” Atsumu exclaims, shoving the phone back to its owner as if it were poison. “God, ya…. Ya really flirt like that?!”

Bokuto looks down at his phone, eyebrows raised and furrowed. “Like what?” Jesus, Omi-kun was right, he really does look like a hurt puppy when he does that. Fuck! Atsumu wants to kick himself. He kicks the bathroom stall instead.

“Like, _that!_ ” He gesticulates vaguely, sticking out a tongue for dramatic effect. “What is even, I can’t— Dude ya just texted him the same thing saying you love him like five times in the past ten minutes!”

“Well, I just say what’s on my mind!” Bokuto exclaims. “Akaashi’s never complained!”

Atsumu buries his face in his hands. “‘Course he wouldn’t; he’s a fucking idiot too.”

“Huhn?”

“Ya know what- Just, nevermind. Aaaugh!!” Atsumu throws his hand up in the air and turns to leave. “Can’t frickin’ believe I thought’cha were really havin’ some bathroom issues this whole time,” he mumbles under his breath, “I’m never bringin’ those special onigiri for ya ever again…”

The light patter of footsteps signals that Bokuto is following close behind. “Hm, what’s that Tsumu? Special onigiri? Oh, oh! Did you feed me those brown rice ones because you thought I’m not getting enough fiber?? Oh my, god, Tsum-tsum, that’s so sweet of you! Now I kinda feel bad!! But I’ll have you know that even before this week I always make sure to eat tons of veggies and drink a lotta water, and I always poop minimum two times a da—”

“Oh please, fer the love of god!” Atsumu groans, quickening his footsteps. He hastily pulls out his own phone, flipping to his messages with Osamu.

> **[17:57:48]** yup. connected the dots. rly wishin i didnt
> 
> **[17:58:23]** this is all ur fault fucker
> 
> **[17:58:34]** fml

A reply comes almost immediately. 

> **[17:58:56] Samu:** ohhhh. that
> 
> **[17:59:05] Samu:** took you long enough lmfao

Atsumu fires off a string of middle finger emojis before he arrives back at the volleyball courts, and he tosses his phone at his bag with a just a tad more force than necessary. He has half a mind to just pack up and leave at this point, but—he stops himself. Because that’s what the old Atsumu would do. He’s not old Atsumu anymore—he’s old Atsumu who’s just spent the last two weeks being way too worried about his weird, irritating teammate’s wellbeing. It would be a shame to let all this go to waste. There is just one last step, after all.

“Bokkun,” he says, taking his position by the net once more. He scoops a volleyball from the cart and tosses it to Bokuto. “I’m… I’m happy for ya, got it?”

Bokuto looks caught off guard, but a second later his face transforms into a big, exuberant smile. “Got it!” He nods, still beaming, and readies himself for the run up. “C’mon, let’s go again, Tsumu!”

The weight of the volleyball is familiar and firm in Atsumu’s fingers as he sets it, and the _smack!_ and _thump!_ that follow sound comforting as well. “Wooo!!” Bokuto shouts, pumping his fists. “That felt so good! Again!”

It’s subtle, but it doesn’t escape Atsumu that the way Bokuto is running, jumping, and flying now that looks lighter than before, as if some heavy dust in the air has suddenly been cleared and lifted. And when Bokuto turns to him with that bright smile of his, yelling compliments and shouting for another, Atsumu thinks that he, too, feels just a bit lighter as well.

If this is what it’s like to be a good person—well, Atsumu supposes he could manage. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you liked it, comments and kudos are very appreciated :) 
> 
> Find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/hamura_art) or [rp twitter](https://twitter.com/BO_KOTARO)!


End file.
